Ah, Morocco! Sunday, 11/07/21

From the sea to the mountains to the sands of the Sahara, Morocco held me and Jimmy spellbound.  I've used the word "exotic" to describe both the country and the sights we saw, and even now, at home in California, we can recall a souk or a town or an area, and know that the word is singularly apt.  We truly enjoyed our journey, the diversity of the land and people, and their welcoming nature.  Strangers everywhere saying "welcome," with a smile and a hand over their hearts.

Morocco is an ancient land.  Its customs and its citizens steeped in history.  I once said to Bernice, "I feel like I'm traveling in the Time of Abraham."  I'm not even sure when that was, but I felt transported back in time more than once on this trip.  Morocco's big cities are modern, like US cities, except most have a medina tucked inside somewhere. 😊

We learned so much, about the country, its politics, womens rights, their education system, Berbers, Islam, and irrigation in the desert!  Learning is a good thing ... dispels myths and prejudices.

This is a Road Scholar map and our basic route, though we visited and/or stopped by many other towns.  You can see we covered quite a lot of ground.  Our personal map would look a tiny bit different, inasmuch as we four flew into Casablanca, and took the train to Rabat, making a full circuit of the country.  Forget Tangier, that wasn't part of the itinerary.  Yes, we rambled through the Volubilis ruins, as the man on the train suggested.

Now that we'd returned to Casablanca, we'd visit the only mosque a non-Muslim can enter, which is Hassan II Mosque.  We had an appointment to tour, but we were early enough that we could spend a few minutes at the ocean.

A long view of El Hank Lighthouse, which bears the name of the point where it was built.  At 167 feet, it's the highest lighthouse in Morocco.  It came into operation one hundred years ago.  We didn't go to it, so I'm not sure if it's open to the public.

Woohoo, American flag waving in the wind.  Netsy and Jan are posing with the flags, and the lighthouse in the distance.  We were all wearing jackets 'cause it wasn't all that warm!

And look at the Hassan II mosque's minaret -- at 689 ft, it's the world's second tallest minaret.  By contrast, the lighthouse is 167 ft.  "No building should be higher than a minaret."  Built by Moroccan artisans from all over the kingdom, it was completed in 1993.

The minaret is topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, built partially on land and partially over the ocean; worshippers can pray over the sea, but there is no glass floor looking into the sea. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer:  25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside ground.  I copied this from Wiki, because it's concise and relevant.  The building is huge; the entire complex is 22 acres.

Our group is walking toward the main entrance, but it's a long walk.  I can't stress how large this complex is.  A local guide met us inside, and she gave us a 45-minute tour.

A museum is attached.  We didn't go in.

Six thousand traditional Moroccan artisans worked for five years to create the abundant and beautiful mosaics, stone and marble floors and columns, sculpted plaster moldings, and carved and painted wood ceilings.  56 glass chandeliers by Murano grace the interior.  I could go on and on.  In the photo above, the main hall where the person is standing is for men, the mezzanine area above it is where women pray.

Above is the Mihrab, a semicircular niche in the wall that indicates the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca, and the direction that Muslims should face when praying.

Down a series of steps led us to the basement and the ablution room and a vast public hammam (bath) with its own entrance.  This area is for men; women bathe in a separate room.

Impressive?  100% for sure.  Like the Catholic cathedrals of Portugal and Spain, this mosque was over-the-top stunning.

Late afternoon, we checked into our hotel (no wifi for me), another of the Ibis chain, and marginal at best, but convenient.  It was just for one night anyway.  Since we had such a terrific farewell feast last night, we had a simpler dinner this evening at the hotel.

Oh, Jan wanted to go to "Rick's Cafe!"  If you've ever seen the 1942 movie, "Casablanca" with Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart, Rick's Cafe figures prominently.  Capitalizing on the movie's fame, a bar/restaurant with Rick's name came on the scene.  Jan didn't want to go alone (in a taxi), so Jimmy, who also not-so-secretly wanted to go to Rick's, went with her, and then Netsy tagged along.  Lots of fun for them, and Jimmy bought a T-shirt.

Bus photo, with glare.  Best I could do.

"Play it again, Sam."

Bags packed for travel, on Sunday morning, the 8th, we hailed a cab to the airport.  Thanks to United Airlines, our return home wasn't one day, it was two days.  Two long days of sitting in an airplane or an airport and no sleep.  We were grateful that, son, Matt, could pick us up Tuesday evening at the Sacramento Airport.  But, we survived and after a week at home, our jet lag was gone.

Another perk when traveling is making new friends.  We feel lucky to have spent the month with two great groups -- 15 of us in Portugal/Spain and 10 in Morocco. And it's always fun being Out and About with our best buds:  Bernice and Ibby.  Thanks go to our guides, Ulises in Portugal and Spain, and Nabil in Morocco, for shepherding us so expertly, and making these two Road Scholar programs a month-long continuation of fun, adventure, and learning.

Where to next, you ask?

Berber Village: Sat, 11/06/21

 

After breakfast today we'd journey to an Amazighi (Berber) Village, not too far away from Marrakech, maybe 45 minutes in our big blue bus.  Our Road Scholar group would be involved in some traditional Moroccan cooking with ladies from the village.  They were going to show us how to prepare couscous!  Not like I would, when I open a box of Near East Couscous.  No ma'am, they were going to do the real deal.

Kenzi Rose Garden, our hotel in Marrakech.

Quite nice.

In the village:  Group photo in our hostess' backyard.  Dappled sunlight is not a friend of any camera, but that's what we have here.  L-R, Stephen, Gerri, Bernice, Ibby, me, three Berber ladies, Jimmy, fourth Berber lady, Netsy, fifth Berber lady, Bill, Barbara, and Jan.  Our group leader, Nabil, was the photographer.

Such a gracious group of ladies, and a very special way of welcoming guests to your home:  the traditional tea ceremony, an elaborate ritual.  Green tea with mint is served from a curved teapot spout (with or without sugar) into small glasses.  We were shown exactly how the tea is steeped, and it involves a number of steps.  "Always have more glasses on the tray than you have people to serve."  That way you don't look poor and you can't be caught off guard if more guests arrive.

I must say that hot green tea (usually sweetened) was presented to us as we entered each hotel for the first time.  We kinda looked forward to it.

This lady is performing one of the steps before tea is poured into each glass.  Need I add that they're not using Lipton tea bags?  One of the ladies spoke fairly good English and she explained the process as it was happening.  We were told each lady's name, but they weren't easy English names like Nancy or Ruth, so I'm sorry ....

Sugar for your tea?  Picture on the left is chunks of sugar in a bowl held by a lady.  Nabil on the right is showing the cone (!!) of sugar they buy to chop into chunks!  Beet sugar.

Homemade sweets (cookies) go perfectly with tea.

They were all tasty!

After our tea, we moved to the backyard to learn about couscous.  While a large pot of couscous was simmering on an outside burner, we were shown how couscous is made.  Start with a bowl of semolina, to which is added a serving spoon of water, and ...

... mix by hand till small pellets form ...

... then sift thru a fine sieve.  This is done till they get the tiny granules that are then steamed.  Somewhere in this process is the word "three."  Three times it's cooked, maybe?  And throwing away the water each time.  Anyhoot, making couscous is time-consuming and "the process is so complicated that the woman's skill is evaluated with how delicious her couscous is!"  Moroccans take their couscous seriously.

While we waited for lunch to finish cooking, henna painting was taking place.  I wandered around with my camera, finding two huge Bougainvillea bushes adorning a fence, till it was my turn for henna.

We had our hands hennaed when we were in India a few years ago, and it remained on our hands for a week or ten days.  Above you see a young woman painting a design on my hand.

Six of us, each with different patterns, show off our hands.  Bernice in green arm and me in pink.  Unfortunately, the henna mixture the girl used turned out to be a light orange (after the brown flaked off), and barely visible.  Everyone was disappointed, but, what the heck.  It was only one dollar a hand.

Back to the kitchen.  Spices were added to our couscous, making the final product a somewhat darker color.  Above, one lady is ladling vegetables over the finished couscous.  (No, I'm not sure why this is taking place on the floor.)  I feel like I've done a poor job of explaining how to make this, but I tried.  I bet you could Google "couscous from scratch" and find out how to make it, if you're interested.

There are different recipes of couscous,

using spices, meat, and vegetables.

Ibby and I are ready to dive into that large earthen bowl, filled with homemade couscous, meat and vegetables.  It was delicious, and I appreciated that these women continue the important custom of preparing this dish from scratch.  From what I've seen, many Moroccan women still spend a lot of time using "old-fashioned" ways in the kitchen.  This American, however, will continue to open a box.

When it was time to leave, we gave hugs all around -- for their hospitality, their openness, and their joy of sharing something very valuable to them:  Nourishing food.  Just as women everywhere would do.

* * * * *

This is our last day in Marrakech, and our next to last day in Morocco.  Everyone in the group needed a COVID test to get home, which was done at 6pm in the hotel for 900 MAD (Moroccan Dirhams) each, roughly ninety bucks, American.  Our third test of our trip, Jimmy and I have now shelled out close to $700 to have Q-tips stuck into our noses.  (As expected, all tested negative)

Nice that the group had time to freshen up upon our return to the hotel from our village excursion.  Tonight would be our farewell dinner, and the venue was tip-top:  The Red House in Marrakech.   

Look at the decor!  We enjoyed the very best Moroccan cuisine, seated in a beautiful room for this special occasion.  Dinner was (tender!) chicken with preserved lemon, plus, plus, plus.  The group as a whole raved about the meal.    

Tomorrow the big blue bus will carry us to Casablanca.  Jimmy and I, Bernice and Ibby, will have come full circle in Morocco, as this is where we began our odyssey on October 23rd.  Luckily, we'll have time to do a bit of Casablanca exploring.

Red City! Friday, 11/5/21

What does Marrakech evoke for you?  For me, it's spices and palaces, mazelike alleys and a large square with dancers and snake charmers, a marketplace with pottery and rugs and all manner of goods for sale, hawkers who'll pester you to death, a city that sizzles with activity.  And Marrakech is all of this, and more.  The Medina of Marrakech was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985.  Our group would visit several of the renowned sites while here.  We would have a very busy day!

Our field trip began at this point -- Marrakech's most famous landmark:  Koutoubia Mosque's 12th-century 250ft high minaret can be seen from every point in the city.  Notice the color of the minaret.  A reddish-ochre.  Because many buildings in the city are from the same ochre-colored clay, Marrakech was nicknamed:  The Red City.  I think it's mandated now that all new buildings be this color.

I am continually surprised on this trip.  Who imagined seeing Magpies in Morocco?  Here you go:  the Maghreb Magpie.

 

On the northwestern side of the Koutoubia Mosque minaret are the ruins of the original prayer hall. The story goes that it collapsed during the massive 1755 Lisbon earthquake, killing hundreds of people as it crumbled. The stumps on the floor are the hall's columns, and they remain in situ as a memorial.

 

Five times a day, the call to prayer echoes from the loudspeakers atop the minaret.  There are no stairs inside the minaret, only a ramp that the muezzin would have once ridden up on horseback to give the call to prayer.  Now a microphone is used!  We found the minaret's Moorish design to be eye-catching from every angle.  A lovely garden is next to the mosque.  In the foreground is Paper Flower, a type of Bougainvillea.  

I'm sorry, I laughed.  I couldn't help it.  These two are called "water men."  In days of yore, they provided a service as water sellers.  Carrying well water in their large leather pouches (animal bladder, is my guess, camel or goat), they'd ring their bells as a way of advertising.  With bottled water easily obtained now, these guys are basically a tourist attraction.  You take their picture, they expect to be paid.  Our guide gave them a coin or two ... hence the pic.  BTW, the hats are typical Berber head coverings.

Walking to the medina,

trying not to get run over. 

This is the argan oil lady.  She's pressing Argan seeds (inside round domed thing in front of her) to obtain the oil (light brown, at her feet).  I'm told the oil has health benefits (it's expensive).  Didn't buy any.

You wouldn't believe the exquisite beauty of the Bahia Palace.  Above is the courtyard and garden of the small riad.  I can't describe the palace ... almost five acres, with a labyrinth layout, room entering room entering room, apparently built piecemeal.  It's a historical landmark, built in the 19th Century, and more of a tourist attraction nowadays, a gorgeous one.

One of the ceilings!  Sculpted and painted.  Stunning.

Decorated ceilings, sculpted and painted stuccos. Tile floors and walls.

Leaded glass windows. Unbelievable artistry.

After the palace, we made our way to the medina, which is a walled, densely packed medieval city dating to the Berber Empire, with thriving souks. It's easy to get turned around, only to find you're back where you started from, or stuck in a dead end.  Luckily, we had guides to keep us from losing our way.

Priceless photo!

And then we were in Morocco's famous square:  Djemaa El Fna.  Maybe you've heard of it or read about it (I had).  I knew it could be wild and crazy, full of acrobats, snake charmers, food stalls, hawkers, henna tattoo artists, oh, what else?  Chained monkeys!  But, we were there early before lunch, and not too much was happening.  These fellas with the snakes had attracted a small crowd.  Take a picture?  Give a coin.  None of our group wanted to touch or get near any snakes!

So we made a round of the square (haha, get it?), looked at this 'n that, and decided we'd return around sunset, see if things got livelier.  Djemaa El Fna square is huge, and it's been a protected urban landmark since 1922 and UNESCO-inscribed since 2001 as a place of unique cultural exchange.

After lunch we visited Yves St Laurent's Majorelles Gardens -- a fantastic 12-acre oasis in the middle of Marrakech.  Its creator was an artist named Jacques Majorelles who started in 1923 and continued on for 40 years.  He gave the garden (and the world) its own vibrant and original color:  Majorelle Blue.  Oh, that blue!  The gardens were restored by French designer Yves St Laurent and his partner Pierre Bergé.  Much of Morocco is desert or bordering on desert, and what you see here thrives on little or no water, a desert refuge.

Yup, sometimes others man the camera and you see me!

Look how green it is, even with cacti and palm trees and bougainvillea, and so on.  The bougainvillea was out-of-control pretty. 

These towering cactus have to be close to 100 years old.

One of the staffers took hold of my camera and directed us to stand here, move there, over further, go sit.  It was kinda cool.

Check out these cacti specimens.  I could've spent a lot more time on the paths, just looking, then sitting and looking, but we had to go.  It was a lovely interlude.  Of course there's a gift shop (I bought a post card) and a little outdoor café.  Jimmy sat and had a small coffee, and I know he must have felt suave and debonair surrounded by such beauty. 

What was next?  Back at the hotel, Bernice and Ibby and Jimmy and I decided to walk to a restaurant nearby for dinner -- Paul's.  The night was chilly and indoor seating was full, so we sat outdoors inside a plastic tent and stayed warm.  No one spoke English except us.  In Marrakech, French seems to be  preferred language, "bon soir, madam."  We managed ....

We hailed a cab to return us to Djemaa el Fna.  It wasn't dark yet, but more people jammed the square.  More noise filled the square.  I think if we'd been there at 11pm (no, older folks are in bed by 11pm, even if they are in Morocco!), we would've seen even more stuff.  The food stall dudes (eat here, madam, as they wave a paper menu in your face) were sorta obnoxious.  These are outdoor places with a few tables and chairs, and a smoky cauldron emitting smells.  Oops, no thanks!  Monkeys and snakes and acrobats and henna ladies and guys selling paintings.  Ooh, look at that painting (we bought).  We wandered into the souk and looked at pottery and tee shirts and cups and oh gosh.  It was fun.  Really. 

When we'd had enough, we choose getting into a horsey wagon over taking a taxi to our hotel.  Ibby negotiated the price to an affordable level, and we rode back to the hotel in style!

What a day!  Whew, we were tuckered out.  Tomorrow will be different.  Stay tuned!